


;

by TearyPhoenix



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Artist Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Asexual Character, Bisexual Evan Hansen, College Sophomore Evan, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Tattoo Artist Connor Murphy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 11:37:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearyPhoenix/pseuds/TearyPhoenix
Summary: Evan always passes in front of this cool 24/24 tattoo parlor when going home and he often spares a few seconds of his time to stare curiously at some designs. One night, he gets to meet the author of those peculiar designs he really likes. Too bad he is drunk ?"When he dared to think about getting a tattoo, he used to long for something colorful on his skin, full of warmth and life to look at in the morning and feel better. However, those drawings had made him change his mind, there was no colours and the lines seemed harsh but once Evan had stepped closer he had felt like he had simply been proved wrong about everything. There was a calculated smoothness in the harshness and the dark traits only made the clear white parts shine brighter. It wasn’t about life and color, it wasn’t about darkness either, it was all about light and shadows, how they seemed to dance and give birth to each other on the paper."





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**Author's Note:**

> yall have a good read

**;**

A group of five students was surrounding a hard working printer. “Here it is,” said one of them as they gathered all the sheets with their shaking hands. “This is our whole year, this is our future.” 

“It’s just one group work done, Megan,” sighed another student. “There will be more.”

“Yes but tonight i get to leave this place feeling like i achieved something, and that makes me less of a mess.” Megan countered, flicking their long dark hair. “Don’t be a killjoy, Sam.” 

Sam hummed before taking the papers out of Megan’s sweaty hands to staple them together. “Good job, everyone. I think it’s the first time i get to be in a group in which _ everyone _ gives a shit and actually work on it.” 

“You’re damn right!” the brunette cheered. “Let us engage in another social activity together. Of a fun kind. Let’s go eat. Let’s go drink. Let’s‒”

“We get it, Megan!” Sam interrupted. “But i agree, who’s in?”

All the others agreed one by one before turning to the last person who blushed and scratched his neck awkwardly. “Why not?” Evan said softly. 

* * *

At first, Evan did not regret coming. Those people were nice and quite safe to be around, he had been lucky to be assigned with them for this group work. They had not been working very fast and Megan was always late to their meeting but in the end they got it all done in time and Evan’s hands were less and less sweaty as working sessions passed. So, yeah, he could even say he was having a great time eating greasy food with those pals. He didn’t have to talk much and when he did they all took the time to listen with a patient gleam in their eyes. Evan loved them and hated himself for that, that is on that thought that he started spiraling down. Surely, the beers they went to get once they were done eating did not help. 

It had been three years since he had graduated from high school and, sure, the young man had made progress : he only needed to see his therapist once every two months now. But he still stuttered, blushed and sweated, less than before, but sometimes‒ often, Evan wished everything would just _ stop _ . He wished he could be a normal person, a normal young adult and not the baby grown up teenager he constantly felt like. He wished he could go out with people like this and dare to call them his friends, he wished he could have actual fun and not be the sad kind of drunk guy he always ended up as whenever he consumed anything. He wished he wasn’t‒ he just wished he _ wasn’t‒ _

“Are you okay, Evan?” someone asked, he didn’t knew who, maybe Megan. 

He mumbled something about going to the bathroom and simply left the room, hoping that getting away from the bar and the crowd would help in some way. Evan tried to freshen himself up with tap water but it just made his skin redder and his vision even more blurry. Why did he drink this much? He knew he didn’t need a lot to get drunk but he couldn’t bring himself to say he needed to stop when the others kept ordering more and more, offering to pay for him when he hesitated. He was a college sophomore and he still couldn’t bring himself to say no to other people when it was really necessary, the young man chuckled darkly at that thought. 

The soap dispenser squicked pathetically as he washed his hands, he took ten deep breaths before stepping out. Everyone was still at the same table, new drinks in hands, except for Sam who was apparently quite busy sleeping on the table. No one would notice if he left, so he did just that, stumbling away in the fresh night. 

* * *

“Get the hell out!” Connor snapped. “I’m not touching an inch of your skin, you’re drunk!”

“What the hell, man?” whined a wobbly man. “Yall did my friend’s ass last time! I can pay!” 

“That wasn’t me! I have a policy, i don’t tattoo inebriated people, that’s all, come back tomorrow when you’re damn sober.” Connor rubbed his eyes when the man took his phone and called his ‘friend’. 

“Jamie!” he rasped in his dirty cellphone. “Tell ‘em!”

“What the fuck, Dean?” a voice answered. “It’s damn late! You better have a good excuse for waking me up, i work tomorrow you dumb fucknut!” 

The young artist decided he had had enough, he stood up and grabbed the guy, shoving him outside. This is why he hated the week-end late night shift, he knew that his boss expected him to tattoo all the drunky weirdos that stumbled upon their 24/24 tattoo studio and that he would be pissed again but Connor gave a total amount of zero (0) fuck. He never hid the fact that he wouldn’t do that kind of shit, he’d flip them off and say that clear consent was sexy— and that came from an asexual person. For some reasons they did not fire him… Okay, maybe they kept his sassy ass around because they were desperate for artists who accepted to work night shifts. And, also, perhaps because he was very talented and people apparently liked what they called his ‘style’. Connor had decided to not dwell on that and just kept on doing what he had to do without questioning or praising himself too much. 

When the young artist turned around after watching the drunky run away in the street he noticed a person bent in front of the shop, looking at the various tattoo designs displayed outside. He squinted and lit a cigaret as he approached the other man. The figure was clearly drunk, he was muttering and his stance was very awkward. Connor was a bit done for tonight, honestly.  
  
“Hey, you!” he called. “If you’re drunk you may as well fuck off!”

The man jumped and stood straighter, he was very tall, taller than the artist.

“Excu‒ excuse me?” the poor guy turned to face Connor with a pathetic expression. “I’m-, i’m sorry that i-, that i came. I will leave now.”

“Oh.” Connor knew that face and tallness, his assholeness melted a little bit. “It’s looky boy.”

“Look-, looky boy?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s what we call you here. You always stand here to look at the designs, but you never come in.” the tattoo artist said. “I never saw you so late, though.”

“I-i, huh, i just like the drawings, they, they change, sometimes.” he blushed in the dark. “Is that weird? Do you work here? Do i-, do i scare people?” 

Connor sighed and lit a cigaret. “I work here,” he said. “I’m sorry but i don’t think you could possibly ever scare anyone. We just notice you because you’re tall and we don’t have anything better to do.” 

“He, hum, that other guy, he seemed very rude and annoying.” the young man said softly, scratching his dirty blond hair. 

Connor blew some smoke. “He was, but i’m used to it on this kind of night. Sorry that i yelled at you, i was pissed because of him. I’m Connor.” 

“I’m Evan Hansen and‒ i’m sorry, i think i am drunk. Less than i was half a hour ago when i started walking home but i still am a little because i drank so much, even though i wanted to stop. But i kept on ordering beers because that’s what everyone did, and i thought that beers were light enough for me but in the end they’re really not. I shouldn’t even drink in the first place, i should also leave, i’m sorry i bothered you, i will go now‒” 

“Hold on,” Connor cut in, without really knowing why. “Why don’t you come look at some other designs inside? I think you could also use a glass of water right now, you don’t seem really well.” 

Evan didn’t knew his face could become even redder. “Huh,” he answered. “I dont‒”

“Come in,” the artist invited, smashing his unfinished cigaret on the wall. Evan followed him silently, without really knowing why either.

* * *

There were even more beautiful designs of many kind and style inside but, even when drunk, Evan had a preference for those fabulous ink-like works he could find on the left side. When he dared to think about getting a tattoo, he used to long for something colorful on his skin, full of warmth and life to look at in the morning and feel better. However, those drawings had made him change his mind, there was no colours and the lines seemed harsh but once Evan had stepped closer he had felt like he had simply been proved wrong about everything. There was a calculated smoothness in the harshness and the dark traits only made the clear white parts shine brighter. It wasn’t about life and color, it wasn’t about darkness either, it was all about light and shadows, how they seemed to dance and give birth to each other on the paper. 

Until now, Evan did not know how it presented itself once imbedded in the flesh for there were no pictures in the window display… because they were all here. And it was better than whatever he had tried to imagine before. He took in a deep breath. “Woah…” 

Connor felt himself blush a little when he saw who's drawing the blond man was drooling on, he and his co-workers had noticed that ‘looky boy’ was always staring at the spot where_ his_ drawing were placarded. They often teased him about it. “Here’s your water,” he coughed lightly. 

Hansen grabbed the glass and thanked him. “Those ones are the best!” he couldn’t help but blurt. He then proceeded to down all the water in one big gulp, Connor was impressed.

“They’re mine.” he informed, the other stared at him with stars in his eyes. 

“Wow, really? You did those, you did that? I like them, a lot. This style is great, i always look at it when i pass‒ not that i think that the others are ugly, of course, it’s just that yours are better, i mean, i like them best. Yeah, they’re-, they’re good. I’ll shut up now. Can i use your bathroom? If you have one, i mean‒” 

The artist scoffed at this mess as he undid his messy ponytail, “Of course we have a bathroom, it’s right over there,” he gestured on his side. “And... thanks, i guess?” 

The other left the room awkwardly and Connor sat down with a sigh, he had no idea why he had invited ‘looky boy’ inside, maybe because he was curious and wanted to get to know him? He also felt bad for yelling at him, of course. It’s just that this guy reminded him of something, of someone? He had no idea what or who, there was just something about this boy that ticked his brain. The tattoo artist started gathering his hair in his hands to tie them again and looked up as Evan came back slowly with a very serious expression on his face. He sat in front of him and stared at him with big brown eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“Connor,” he started. “I want you to tattoo me.”  
  
“What? Now?” 

“Please?” 

“Not when you’re like this, didn’t you hear why i threw that other guy out? I am_ not _ doing that.” Connor said, suddenly feeling very disappointed and annoyed.  
  
What did he expect from another drunk dude?

Evan’s expression lost a bit of its resolve. “It’s not-, it’s not what you think! I need to do it now! Or‒” 

“Or nothing!” the artist snapped. “Come back tomorrow morning when you are sober.” 

“But i won’t be brave enough to come back! I just know it! That’s why i need to do it now, i know i won’t regret it, i’ve been thinking about it for months now! But i just won’t be brave enough tomorrow…”

“Listen,” Connor said angrily. “I’m sorry but i don’t care. Come back later and get it done, this shop is always open.”

“But i-, i want _ you _ to do it!”

The artist gave him a blank look, appearing unimpressed. “What do you want?”

“What?” 

“What kind of tattoo do you want? Where? How big? You’ve been thinking about it for months, haven’t you? What do you want?”

Evan’s enhanced stutter made him feel like he was back in high-school. “I-, i don’t know…” 

Connor rubbed his eyes tiredly, what was this guy’s deal? “You-, you just want me to give you a random tattoo?” 

“No-, no! Just, i want you to do it, i really enjoy your drawings?”

“You’re aware this will stay on your body forever, right?” 

“I know what i want!” the blond whispered harshly, eyes wide. 

“You clearly don’t!” Connor shut his mouth and breathed slowly, had it been some years or even some months ago, he would have gotten really angry and he would have probably punched something. But he was working on that, he was working on being a more decent human being. Sometimes, he even smiled.  
  
“Okay,” he said aloud. Evan was clearly an anxious guy, he was not a douchebag, he had a round face with big eyes and his hair seemed soft‒ that was not the point. Evan did not deserve his verbal abuse, that’s all. “Listen, we will think this through and not rush in anything.” he stated to both himself and the young man in front of him.

Evan nodded, unsure. 

“I work this very same shift next week so that leaves you with seven days to think about the kind of tattoo that you want. You come back here next week and we talk about it, i try to sketch some shit and see if you like it, alright? In no way does that mean you will be forced to get a tattoo, you can back off anytime, alright?”

There was authority in the artist’s tone but, somehow, the blond did not feel pushed nor did he feel threatened by it. “O-okay,” he answered numbly. 

“You’re available next week, right? Same day same time?”

“Yeah-, yes!” 

“What about you not being brave enough?”

Evan flushed. “Iwill-, will try… if it’s you then i will try.”

Connor did not expect to blush again, what the fuck was this guy’s damage?

“You better come sober.” he teased. 

That made Evan gasp in adorable offense. “I swear this-, this never usually happen!” 

The tattoo artist laughed softly. “I’m not judging you, don’t worry.”

“Okay…” 

“Do you have a cellphone? Maybe you should note it in your calendar so you don’t forget about me.”

“I would-, i wouldn’t. But i’ll set a notification, just in case.” 

“Let me give you my number so you can tell me if you can’t make it for whatever reason in the end, okay?”

“You’re so… kind.” Evan muttered. “I’m sorry that i… imposed myself?”

“It’s fine.” 

Connor saved his number in the blond’s cellphone and made him promise to send a text when he reached his home. He only had to wait around fifteen minutes to receive it.

**Unknown Number : ** _ This is ev.an hansen. home, thank you a lot of much. _

**Connor : ** _ ok goodnight and you re good _

On the following day, Evan woke up with a bit of a headache and ton of notifications on the group work’s chatroom. Everybody was asking if he was alright, Megan had changed the name of the chat to _ ‘a bunch of nasty queer friends _’ and it made the young man smile shily in his bed.

\---

  
**Evan Hansen :** _I’m sorry, i had to leave a bit early yesterday night, but i had a lot of fun! Thank you all so much for everything. _  
  
**Samantha Jane : **_Please just warn us next time? It’s fine if you want to leave, but we were worried about you…_  
  
**Evan Hansen : **_I’m sorry. _  
  
**Samantha Jane :** _It’s okay, just don’t do it again :-). _  
  
Next time? Again? They still wanted to hang out with him?  
  
**Evan Hansen : **_Yes. How are you? _  
  
**_MegaNB changed _****_Evan Hansen_****_’s nickname to _****_evanhansence_****_. _****_  
_** **_MegaNB changed _****_Samantha Jane_****_’s nickname to _****_Swaggity Jane_****_._****_  
_** **_  
_** **Swaggity Jane : **_Megan i swear to god i will kill you with my bare hands._  
**Swaggity Jane : **_I’m good, Evan. Thank you for asking. _  
  
**MegaNB : **_‘tis what you deserve for nosing ur :)_

**MegaNB : ** _ also can i post this picture and tag yall so people think we have a life? _

\---

Slowly, Evan remembered everything that had happened last night and he felt stupid for feeling so anxious, he knew it was mostly because of the alcohol but still. Then, his thoughts lead him to certain tattoo artist and he decided to shut his brain off for a second to get up, eat and take a shower.

Some days later, Connor was on his break having a smoke and scrolling on his phone when he suddenly had an idea. ‘Evan Hansen’ he typed on the _ Facedook _ search bar. There was a lot of results but one of them was brought forward because he had one common friend with them. The tattoo artist visited the profile and blinked when he found out that the common friend was his very own sister. He couldn’t see much because the account was private and you had to be friends to see anything. He only had access to the profile picture which seemed to be a... forest? 

“Fuck!” Connor suddenly sputtered. Because he had done the fuckery, he had sent a friendship request.

\---

**Connor M :** _you knwo this guy? __link_  
  
**Zoé Murphy : **_yeah that’s Evan_

**Connor M :** _i mean_  
**Connor M :** _yeah that’s him but like who is he_

**Zoé Murphy : ** _ we went to the same high-school, he’s nice i guess idk i talked to him like two times? _

So that was why Connor felt like he knew him from somewhere! Apparently, Evan had not recognized him either. Not that he wished to remember much of high-school anyway.

**Zoé Murphy : ** _ why do u ask? _

**Connor M : ** _ idk u have him in your friend list _

**Zoé Murphy :** _i have like 2k friends connor smh_

**Zoé Murphy : ** _ his last post’s a petition from two years ago lol _

**Zoé Murphy : ** _ u gay or what? _

**Connor M : ** _ Seen 3:36pm _

**Zoé Murphy : ** _ Connor you fuck that’s not how it works _

**Zoé Murphy : ** _ you cant write the seen thing omg it shows by itself you ass _

**Connor M : ** _ 3:37pm _

**Zoé Murphy : ** _ fuck u _

\---

Connor finished his cigaret and went back to work. Some hours passed and the artist grabbed some take-out food before going home. He settled himself in front of his computer where twenty internet tabs stared back at him because he was the kind of little shit who never closed anything. One of them was_ Facedook_, of course, which showed him various notifications, one of them was of an accepted friendship request.  
  
The tattoo artist sighed, hoping he hadn’t passed as a creepy person. Without really thinking, he went to visit the profile once again. Zoe had been right, his very last post was a petition against animal cruelty dated from one year ago‒ but she had missed a very recent picture in which he had been tagged. five days ago, a group of friends in a bar, Evan‒ now he knew he really had the right one, was sitting on the far right, looking cutely awkward with a shy smile. Evan’s friends seemed nice and he seemed fine on this picture, why did he end up miserable in front of a tattoo shop in the middle of the night? They also seemed very… _queer_, for a lack of better words. One was holding a bag full of lgbt+ pin’s. Was Evan gay or something? Why did Connor care? 

There was a little green dot next to Hansen’s name, indicating that he was online. He opened the yet empty message room and noticed that the blond was already writing something to him apparently, so he waited… and waited. Those three teasing little dots kept on appearing and disappearing, showing Evan’s uncertainty. Connor decided to pull him out of his misery. 

\---

**Connor M : ** _ hey sorry i didn’t mean to send a friendship request _

**Connor M : ** _ your profile was proposed to me because youre friend with my sister lol did not mean to stalk you _

**Evan Hansen :** _Oh! So that’s what it was! I mean, you can delete me if you want, if it was an accident, that’s okay! _

**Connor M : ** _ i don’t really mind _

**Connor M : ** _ do you? _

**Evan Hansen :** _No! _

**Evan Hansen :** _Not at all! _  
**Evan Hansen :** _You’re Zoe’s brother? _

**Connor M :** _ more like shes my sister yeah _

**Connor M :** _apparently we went to the same high school but i don’t remember you_

**Evan Hansen : ** _ Well i did not recognize you last time because i was, like, _  
  
**Connor M : ** _ hella drunk? _

**Evan Hansen :** _ I’m so sorry! _

**Connor M : ** _ i told u its fine _

**Connor M : ** _ so youre saying you remember me? _

**Evan Hansen : ** _ Just a little, only from afar? Thanks to your pictures. Also it’s totally normal that you don’t remember me, i didn’t really talk to anyone. I was like, shy? _

**Connor M :** _i must admit i did not bother with people in high-school im not the friendly kind _

**Evan Hansen : ** _ But you were so nice to me! _

**Connor M : ** _ i yelled at you like two times _

**Evan Hansen :** _It was fine, i was not sober. _

**Connor M : ** _ if you say so _

**Connor M : ** _ are you still coming this weekend? its okay if you changed your mind _

**Evan Hansen :** _I’m coming! I’ve thought about it a little, i think i have an idea…_

**Connor M : ** _ dont spoil me _

**Evan Hansen :** _O_

**Evan Hansen :** _Ok*. _

**Connor M : ** _ see you soon then _

**Evan Hansen :** _Yes! _

\---

Evan put away his phone, blushing. He couldn’t believe that Connor was Zoe Murphy’s sister! Not that he still had a crush on her or anything, it was just such a strong_ link _ to his past self… he didn’t knew what to make of it. He did remember Connor a little bit, a tall crooked figure in the whispering hallway. The artist’s ponytail had helped him keeping his anonymity the last time he saw him. Just kidding, Evan was shit at remembering faces and he was always afraid of not recognizing someone he knew, thus offending them. Thanks god Connor did not remember him, it really was better that way. For this reason but also because of the fact that the blond had been a total anxiety reeking loser in high-school. He still felt like he was one but he wasn’t allowed to give in those thoughts today because of self-care. 

That’s right, he was better today, he had worked a lot on himself, he wasn’t perfect but he tried. He would never ‘give up’ again. Life itself was hard, especially for people with issues such as Evan’s. He had to cater to his responsibilities, sustain himself and the people who cared about him. It was so hard to do that when his mind and body seemed to be constantly working against him. His guilty thoughts, his stutter and his flushing cheeks, anything to make him feel and seen as vulnerable. But it was worth it, wasn’t it? He had to go through that to get to see the morning sun shining behind tree leaves and enjoy its patched warmth, he had to go through that to bring a smile on his mother’s lips and a proud gleam in her eyes, he had to go through that to feel the butterflies in his stomach he felt anytime he thought about seeing Connor again. Yes, it was harder for him than for most, but that only meant Evan had to get braver‒ and he could do that. He could at least try, he could give himself a chance. Because it was worth it, it didn’t seem so every day, but the ones where it was were worth it.

And that was what his tattoo would be about. 

* * *

This time, Connor’s hair was not gathered in a ponytail but in a messy bun‒ Evan tried not to stare too much. 

“You sober?” the artist asked as a greeting, making the blond blush bright. 

“I am! I told you that i ne-, that i never do that usually.” 

Connor laughed lightly at the other’s embarrassment like the asshole he liked to be. “How are you?” he asked still.

“I’m good, better than last time.” Evan answered as he sat in front of the artist who was sketching something. 

He watched Connor’s long and pale finger scratch some words with a pencil and close the notebook he was using. The tattoo artist then looked up and smiled softly. 

“You do look better.” 

“You too!” Evan had no idea what else he could say to this.

Connor chuckled again. “I guess,” he shrugged. He did have had some good sleep recently. “So, tell me about your tattoo.” 

He watched as the blond fidgeted lightly and scratched the back of his neck. “It might be dumb,” he said. 

“The world is dumb.”

Evan nodded, staring at the ground. “It would be quite small. I don’t think i can start with something big, you see?”

The artist nodded too. “I understand.” 

For a tattoo artist Connor did not have many tattoos, the blond suddenly noticed. Not being drunk helped notice stuff. Like how his nails were freshly painted dark purple, like the subtle clue of ink poking out on his skin under his long sleeves, like the brown spot in one of his blue eyes. Oh, God, Evan was so crushing on this guy he kinda only met twice. 

“So…” Connor said, consciously pushing some wild strands of hair behind his pierced ear. “Are you gonna tell me about your idea or are you just going to keep staring at me?” 

They were both blushing, Evan coughed. 

“A co-, a semicolon.” 

Connor blinked. “A semicolon?”

“Yes… I, i wanted something small? And, huh, i like to write from times to times? I like to use semicolons‒ they’re pretty?” 

The artist smiled sadly and touched his right wrist discreetly. “Are you aware of its meaning? As a tattoo, i mean?” 

Evan lowered his eyes to the ground, of course a tattoo artist would know about it. He had hoped that this one didn’t, but surely Evan was not the first to ask for a semicolon. Maybe it was too cliché, maybe Connor thought that it was dumb, ridiculous, maybe he was going to laugh at his face, maybe he should just leave right now.

“It’s okay,” he muttered instead. “I know what it means.” 

“Where do you want it?” the other changed the subject. 

The blond blushed again. “I was thinking about… behind the ear?”

Connor hummed. “That’s a very sensible spot, but a pretty one.”

Evan nodded. 

“When do you want to do it?” 

“How about-, howabouttonight?” 

“Wow, really? Are you sure?” the artist asked. 

"Yea-yeah, like i said last time, i’ve been wanting to just _ do_ something for months. At first i thought that i wanted one of your drawings of something i liked, i don’t know, but then i guessed that it might be a bit too much for now. Then i remembered that article about semicolon tattoo i read once and-, and i guessiwouldreallyliketohaveone? I know it might be a bit cliché but‒”

“It’s not cliché,” Connor cut in. “I think it’s nice that some people gather around something meaningful, especially if they-, if they need it.” he added, looking away. “Listen, do you really, really want to do it tonight? We can do it next week too, so you can think about it some more.”

Evan blushed and met his eyes. “I think i’m ready right now. It’s like-, it’s like i need to do this, to _ put _ it somewhere. What i went-, what i’m going through.”

“Okay,” the tattoo artist said, a soft look in his eyes. “Let’s do it, then.” 

Together, they scrolled through different type of semicolons and Evan chose a small and thin one. The tattooing part had not been very long but it had been very painful. The spot behind the blond’s ear turned very red, so did his whole face. Connor had tried to mumble some banality to distract him but it was like the other just couldn’t hear anything while he was being worked on. Once he was done stabbing ink into his skin, the artist slowly explained to him how he had to care for it for the following days. Evan listened and nodded as he went on, looking a bit fazed which worried Connor, he would have had started to regret doing it if Evan’s eyes hadn't lightened up the way they did once he saw the result. 

“It’s so small!” he gasped. “I love it! But i thought the pain would kill me.”

“I can only imagine,” the artist laughed lightly. 

“It’s worth it.” 

“It often is when i’m doing the job,” Connor winked. 

“Without any doubt,” Evan sighed. “I’m not ready yet but i really want one of your drawing somewhere, someday. Maybe a forest... I really like your style, you know?”

“I guessed so, thank you, i guess?”

“You’re good at bragging but not at taking compliments, huh?” the blond smiled at him in the mirror.

“I, huh, i try,” the artist said, considering the fact that he had stopped giving the middle finger to anyone who tried to be nice to him. 

“That’s okay,” Evan blushed. “I try too‒” he stopped himself when he saw the inside of Connor’s wrist in the mirror. 

Connor sighed and grabbed self-consciously at his scarred skin, he opened his mouth to speak but the other beat him to it. 

“You have a semicolon… too?” he asked, turning to stare at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah…” 

“Can i-, can i see?” 

Had it been anyone else, he would have told them to mind their own damn business, but, once again, Evan did not deserve that. Evan probably only deserved good things, unlike Connor who really deserved some of the shit that had hit him. Because he was an asshole, but maybe the other didn’t need to know that yet. He held one of his arm out but the blond softly grabbed both of his wrist and pulled up his sleeves. He, too, had a semicolon tattoo on his right wrist, among the white lines flourishing on his skin.

“Can i ask… how old you were?” Evan asked, looking up sadly. 

There was no pity in those iris, only sadness and… understanding.

“Seventeen,” he answered.

Evan took in a breath and let go of his arms to rub his left one. “I, huh, i tried to do that too when, when i was seventeen too… i jumped out of a tree, ridiculous, right? I only broke my arm.” 

And he hadn’t told anyone but his mother and his therapist months after it had happened. 

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous,” Connor said. “Or we would both be ridiculous fucks.” 

The blond laughed a little and the tattoo artist felt stupidly proud of himself. 

“Enough with the sad shit,” he continued. “We’re kinda done here and i have to work on some sketches but… we should totally hang out sometime.”

“That ‘d be cool.” 

They stayed silent for some seconds before Evan blurted out another question.

“Can i like the pictures of your drawings on Facedook?”

Connor scoffed. “Huh, Yeah? I guess?” 

“Thanks, it’s, hm, it’s just that i didn’t knew if you minded if people liked your pictures or not, you see? Some don’t like it.”

“I don’t mind, go ahead? My facedook is secure anyway and i only add people that i really know and like so…”

Evan blushed again before quickly grabbing his phone, Connor high-fived himself in his head. Then, he realised that the blond _ really _ was going ahead, knowingly scrolling through his pictures on _ Facedook _, opening a quite old drawing of a forest and pressing the like button. Now, Connor was the one blushing because this meant that Evan had visited all of his folders, looking at how he knew where this picture was. He couldn’t judge because he had done the very same, or at least he had tried to, considering that Evan was a bit of social network ghost.

“So…” he started, feeling bold. “Where should our date be?” 

Evan almost dropped his cellphone. “Date?!” 

“Yeah… if you don’t mind it being a date.” 

“Not at all, but‒ are you sure?” he asked shily. 

“Pretty much,” Connor answered simply. “How about this nice coffee shop around the corner of the street? They have good iced coffee.”

“And home-made pastries!” Evan added excitedly. 

“Oh, so you know the place?”

“Yeah, i just-, i just always order in take-out because i’m a bit too anxious to just sit by myself.”

“Well, i like to read or sketch some stuff there sometimes. Let me treat you so you can sit inside and chill in the ambiance.” he smiled. 

“I would like that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this, imma try writing this fzkin date now


End file.
